Wednesday, November 30, 2005

The Hillel You Say

If I am not for myself, who will be for me? If I am not for others, what am I? And if not now, when?

These words have been attributed to great thinkers spanning the scope of human history from Krong the Prognathic, ruler of Caveland, to Mike Gorbachev, who, I guess, might be called “caver of Rule-land.” Ron Reagan was said to have originated this phrase, as have been Catherine the Great, Louis the Adequate, and Ethelred the Pathetic Loser.  Such wisdom seems to supercede individuality, and therefore, even though the words are in the public domain, professional quotologists consistently misattribute them. Frankly, it’s a pity, because the true originator of this adage was one of the greatest thinkers ever to put on one of those tall pointy thinking caps and thinkify.  Hillel was (stop me if you’ve heard this before) the “Nasi,” or head rabbi, in Jerusalem around the time of Jesus, with broad spiritual and secular sway among the hebrew people (or “heeple").  His wisdom continues to inform the course of modern judaism and of western ethical philosophy in general.  No Gorbachev, he - Hillel was truly a man who rose above his age and spoke to the millenia.

But that doesn’t mean that he just automatically knew just exactly what to say at all times.  He, like all of us, got tonguetied on occasion.  He attended “Toastmasters” and took a Learning Annex course on “Meeting People through Public Speaking.” He worked tirelessly on his material, often changing a sermon completely between afternoon rehearsals with his students and that evening’s studio broadcast.  He was tollerant of others, but a perfectionist when it came to his own work.  And that, largely, is why he’s now dead.  That, and the lapse of about 2000 years since his birth, but I think it was mainly the perfectionism.

That perfectionism also holds lessons for us, just as did the ultimate end-product of his work.  His struggles to think and speak complex principles clearly and persuasively continue to teach us the intellectual process.  It is said (this is true) that, when he was an old man, he was called before the roman occupier of Jerusalem and ordered to explain his faith of judaism, while standing on one leg.  He balanced himself and said, “do not do unto others that which is hateful to yourself.” Grounding his other leg, he continued, “the rest is commentary, go and learn it.” This is a technique I personally have found very useful in business meetings and political debates, and it has also improved my yoga practice.  So, Hillel still has much to tell us, both in his actual words, and in the efforts he undertook to articulate them.

Thus: my brazen and unauthorized “rogue philology” excavations in the old city (identity of actual city concealed to protect sources) have uncovered important evidence of Hillel’s intellectual process.  Before he published the adage with which this post begins, he tried out several other versions - each of which carried significance and wisdom, but which, for various reasons, he decided not to include in the final product.  However, these rejected adage fragments continue to teach us, both about human nature and about the nature and process of creativity.  For these two reasons alone, and not for any lucrative book deal that may ensue herefrom, I am pleased to regurgitate share the following:

REJECTED CLAUSES FROM HILLEL’S ADAGE:

If not me, who?  You?  Yeah, right.
If not you, who?  and if not YooHoo, how about a nice egg cream?
If not Turner, Hooch?
If not “not,” not-not?
If not now, maybe a little later, like after you’ve had a drink?
If not, why not?  Show your work.
If I wear this, does it not make my ass look fat?
Are you not going to finish that?
If not medical school, have you considered the rabbinate?

Wise words indeed, from a man with much to say. Or who would have much to say if he weren’t so terribly deceased.  And maybe that’s the most important lesson of all.

Monday, November 28, 2005

Thanksgrabbing: The Gleanings Under the Placemat, PLUS CHINESE NEW YEAR COOKIES

Feeling chipper?  Spry?  Ready for that early-morning jog around the industrial park?  yeah me neither.  Cap’n Pakanappie woke up early last night and would only stop crying 90 minutes later when we dragged him into our bed at 3 am.  I just ate my last piece of apple pie for breakfast and now it’s naptime.  Sadly, the office beckons and I’m going to have to pull myself together shortly to get there.

At least I can look back on a fabulous holiday weekend.  The visitors - my mom, my sister, and her husband and daughter - were all gratefully welcomed.  Mom finally got to spend more than six hours with Zach, and Delia and Zach got to make formal acquaintences, thusly:

The thanksgiving feast was, once again, breathtaking in scope and crushing in volume.  We ate and drank from about 4 in the afternoon till about 10 at night in Sha and Helena’s gorgeous palo alto condo, where I saw old and new friends and generally overconsumed my share of the earth’s bounty.  I felt that, all night long, I was a witty and brilliant conversationalist, but now all that I can remember are two flashes of faux brilliance that, if they are typical of what I was saying, suggest to me that the beaujolais and zinfandel were a bit more profound that I was:

* conception: a beautifully painted wall on which one might relieve onesself.  it is called a murinal.  this, I considered pure genius.

* conception: a bunch of youthful, yet metallic, aliens on the playground, cruelly taunting one of their classmates with sing-song repetitions of klaatu, barata, nikto.  No wonder he jumped ship and came out earth-way.  Aliens can be so cruel, don’t you think? 

Anyway this is the way my brain was working during thanksgiving.  For better or worse, that’s about the last thing I’ve heard from it since. 

The next day my mom went out for lunch with her friend Pat, whose husband is getting ready to go with a bunch of government-business muckimucks to china for a conference to celebrate 25 years of having Shanghai as a sister city.  As mom and Pat were in line at a bookstore after lunch, Pat heard a distinctive voice behind her talking about an upcoming trip to china.  “I know that voice,” she said, turning around.  “Senator Feinstein, are you getting ready for your flight?” “Oh hello Pat, yes I am.” “Please meet my friend Marge.” “Hello Marge, I’m Senator Dianne Feinstein - America’s Margaret Thatcher, Janet Reno with moves, the woman Geena Davis wishes she were.” “Yo, senator, looking hot.” “Yo, bitchin’.  Later, homes.” “Word.” Anyway that’s how I imagine the conversation went, but the actual meeting did really take place.  Mom goes out for lunch and comes back with a senator’s handshake.  And isn’t that what thanksgiving is all about?

Well really, no.  It’s more about hanging out with people you care for, and eating too much.  Here’s what the first one looks like, from Saturday’s trip to Crissey Field: say hi to evi, scott and delia, voguing with Kel and the Boy Who Hates Sleep:

... and here’s how to manage the second one.  It’s a recipe left behind with sample cookies by our wonderful friend Kim when she and Dave came by with their kids to babysit for Kel and me while we took our first non-baby-accompanied trip since getting back from Korea: we went to see the new Harry Potter movie.  I could say a lot about it but I don’t want to ruin it for others who have not yet seen it, nor do I want to start this back-to-work monday with lengthy rants about poor characterization, lack of fidelity to the original story, and superficial treatment of key factors.  So instead, here’s a recipe that ANYONE CAN MAKE, for holiday cookies that will make you very popular in any non-diabetic crowd:

Chinese New Year Cookies

1 12-oz pkg semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 12-oz pkg butterscotch chips
1 6-oz can chinese noodles (the crispy kind that you sprinkle into soup)
1 14-oz can salted peanuts

Melt chocolate and butterscotch on stovetop (if you put a bowl over a pot of boiling water the chips will melt without burning).  Stir in noodles and nuts (in fact, this is my personal motto).  Drop by teaspoonfuls onto waxed paper.  Cool until hard and keep cool or refrigerated for longer storage. 

These cookies look a bit like fistfuls of muddy twigs, but they taste great.  Enjoy them with your favorite friend.  Here’s another shot of mine, and with that, I gotta pull myself together and do that desk thing again. 

Now g’wan with your bad selves and meet a goddamn senator.  Time’s a-wastin’!  Get them senators!  G’wan!

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

have a fulfilling holiday

courtesy of obscure store: this thanksgiving, be grateful for the little things.  like, not being some dick who gets in the news by yanking his peterbilt.

have a delightful holiday and don’t pull any muscles you may need later on.